At what age are memories reliable?
On Ridge Road, my brothers and I each had a best friend. Mine was John Petty. He lived across the street. David’s was Steve Bruce, he lived three or four houses away. And Dana’s was Davey Fend. He lived across the street from Steve. It was a happy coincidence that we each had a friend the exact same age us living a stone’s throw away.
There were other kids in the neighborhood, lots of them, but I can’t remember much about them individually. I know we played wiffle ball in the four-way intersection a block away. We sped around our neighborhood on our bicycles like a pint-sized motorcycle gang. And once, the Gordon girl and her next door neighbor came by my house. Along with John Petty, the four of us ducked behind the toolshed in the overgrown back corner of my yard and took off all of our clothes.
The kid I remember most was Davey Fend. Dana and I went to Davey’s house daily to watch Speed Racer. The Fends had a more modern TV than my family. It picked up ‘ultrahigh frequency’ stations that showed kid oriented shows on weekday afternoons. The networks, the only stations our TV picked up, showed soap operas. One year, Dana and Davey joined an afterschool football program. Me, being the smallest kid you could ever imagine, wasn’t permitted to play. Even though Davey was Dana’s friend, and neither of them were present, Mrs. Fend let me in everyday after school so I wouldn’t miss Speed Racer.
Davey was a big kid. He was the first one in the neighborhood to be able to lift a manhole cover. He was also the first to drop one on his toe. Dana invented the ‘Davey Dance,’ hopping around on one foot yelling “Ow, ow, ow!” Only funny until we learned that Davey broke his toe.
Here’s my unreliable memory:
Dana, Davey and I explored the toolshed one afternoon looking for treasures. Davey may have bullied me. I can’t remember for sure, but John Petty and I were the two smallest kids in the neighborhood. It was the sixties. The little kids got bullied. That’s my excuse. I’m sticking with it.
We found a garden rake hanging on the wall of the shed. Davey, with his propensity to recklessly show off, hooked the rake over the flat edge of the roof and tried to climb it like a gym rope. As he neared the top, the rake slipped off the roof and Davey landed on his back. This was the first time I ever saw someone get the wind knocked out of them.*
Sensing Davey’s helplessness, I grabbed the garden rake and hit him over the head with the sharp tines. Blood poured down over his face. He wailed. My world slowed. No one moved. Dana didn’t run to get help. Davey, bent over as if at prayer, held his head like a football. Suddenly, he gained control of his raspy, snotty voice. He lifted his bloody hands before his face and screamed “Look what you did to me. You killed me!”
That’s my whole story. I can’t remember anything that happened after that. I have a sense that it was a huge deal that included meetings between parents and maybe even law enforcement, but I don’t ever remember getting punished. I don’t recall anyone ever bringing it up again. Sometimes I wonder if it happened at all.
When I was a teenager, my mother told me that Davey was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. After she explained to me what that meant, I decided that hitting him with the rake must have caused it. For years I blamed myself for Davey’s MS.
In retrospect, the whole episode seems sort of unbelievable to me. I’ve thought about asking my father if it ever happened, if I ever brained Davey Fend with a rake. Once, after a similar series of questions about the past, my father lost patience with me. “Why do you want to know that. Just let it go.”
As a sci-fi nerd, I feel as if someone has tinkered with my brain and tried to erase this tragic memory from my past. They did a shoddy job. Most of it, or at least some of it, is still there.
Edit: Probably fiction. My brothers, both older than me, don’t recall this happening. It seems a pretty specific, detailed and violent memory to make up. Wonder what that says about me.
* Getting your wind knocked out might be an out of date or a uniquely American term. If you’re unfamiliar, read about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Getting_the_wind_knocked_out_of_you
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Previously Publishing on jefftcann.com
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